


Kissing With Pants On

by killeleanor



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killeleanor/pseuds/killeleanor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It gets more difficult every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing With Pants On

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly this isn't the most creative title I've ever come up with. Inspired by Crabstickz's My First Time video. Not as angsty as it sounds!

It gets more difficult every time.

It should probably surprise Chris just how often he finds himself fake-kissing his best friend, but by now it’s something everyone shrugs off as being their thing. But lately it’s been harder not to close that gap between their lips, even just for a second. It’s so tempting to just do it, pretend it’s an accident, that he stumbled or something, but PJ knows him too well to believe something like that now.

Right now, they’re in Chris’s flat, drinking for the sake of it with no particular occasion to celebrate. They’re pleasantly buzzed, not enough to lose control of their inhibitions but enough that they’re speaking a bit more freely than they usually would with the odd word slurred. They’re laughing about something, most likely something nonsensical that PJ’s convinced he could work into a video, but his eyes keep dropping to Chris’s mouth. It happens four times before Chris notices, and he bites down unconsciously on his bottom lip.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?” PJ asks, gaze flicking up to Chris’s eyes.

“What what would be like, Peej?”

“If I let you kiss me. I know you would…” he continues absentmindedly. “If we kissed, I mean.”

Chris stops breathing for a moment, trying to process the fact that his best friend is even saying something like that. He realises he’s been sitting gaping for at least ten seconds and tries to stall, shifting his position on his bed and inadvertently moving closer to his friend.

“I dunno,” he hedges, gazing down at PJ’s knee. “Do you think about it?”

His eyes meet his friend’s again on the upwards intonation and PJ seems to take this as an invitation to shuffle closer to Chris. “Yeah.”

“Then… Why don’t you let me?”

He shifts closer again and their legs are touching now.

“Because…” Their shoulders are brushing and PJ brings his hand to rest above Chris’s knee. “If I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

Their faces are so close Chris can feel PJ’s breath against his mouth. He can see how the colours merge in his eyes.

“Oh,” he replies.

Everything in him is screaming to run away, to just escape from this situation that he really can’t handle, but it’s as if he’s paralysed under the intensity of PJ’s gaze. He can’t come up with something witty to say or a way to laugh it off, so he flounders and spews out the first thing that comes to mind.

“I suppose we’ll have to see about that.”

He’s not as confident as he sounds, but he surges forwards and closes the gap of centimetres between their lips, reaching to clutch at PJ’s shoulders. PJ responds almost instantly, sliding their lips together. He pulls back briefly, just to see if he can, before surging back with enough force to knock Chris back slightly. With a hand on the back of Chris’s head, PJ licks at his lips until Chris’s mouth opens, groaning as their tongues collide. Chris shudders as PJ’s tongue flicks at the roof of his mouth, nails digging into his back as he clutches the other man closer. This encourages him to repeat the motion until Chris almost growls and starts tugging at PJ’s shirt. He gets the message easily enough, breaking the kiss for long enough to pull it over his head, keen on Chris to do the same.

He discards the garment on the floor somewhere before meeting their lips again, the sensation intensified by the newly revealed skin they have access to. PJ’s surprised by how soft Chris is as he strokes his hands through his hair and down his back, pulling him closer as he shudders slightly under his fingertips. He’d thought Chris might be more adventurous, taking everything PJ would allow him to and maybe more, but his hands move slowly and his kisses are more tender than he expected. His fingertips snake their way to PJ’s hips, fumbling at the fly on his jeans.

“Wait,” PJ says, tearing his lips away. Chris’s hands still. “I can’t- just not- Can we keep our pants on? I’m sorry, I just-”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Chris interrupts, returning his hands to PJ’s back.

He’s not going to say it doesn’t hurt, because it does, just a little bit, but he understands. Everything’s happening fast and he isn’t even sure how PJ feels about him or what they’re doing; he’s just glad he wants to carry on. Their lips meet again, and there’s less urgency this time, more of something Chris can’t bear to let himself think about. He opens his legs, nudging one between PJ’s and grunting when he feels his hard length against his thigh. This can work. Experimentally, he thrusts forward, repeating the motion when PJ groans into his mouth. He grinds his erection into PJ’s thigh, feeling him do the same, setting a rhythm that their kissing matches. The noises PJ makes when the pace picks up just enough make Chris want kiss down his neck and bite his collarbone, but he knows PJ won’t let him, not now. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time, the friction infuriating but kind of perfect in a way he couldn’t dream of.

“Chris,” PJ whines, and he knows he’s close.

Chris nods because he knows, nipping PJ’s lip with his teeth and moving his hand to PJ’s backside to pull him closer for that last bit of friction they both need. The man gasps in surprise but it just takes a few more thrusts for them to see white behind their eyes as they lose themselves.

“PJ,” he sighs as he’s coming down, pressing their foreheads together.

PJ nods, rubbing their noses together before pecking Chris’s lips once, twice, three times. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, but his arms encircle the other man tighter.

“I know.”

They trace patterns on each other’s skin as their heart rates slow, lulling them to sleepiness.

“Are we going to be okay?” Chris asks, opening his eyes to try and focus on PJ’s.

PJ smiles. “I think so, Chris.”

Their foreheads are still pressed together as they drift into unconsciousness.


End file.
